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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23296051">12:30</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/For_ms_rootbeer/pseuds/For_ms_rootbeer'>For_ms_rootbeer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Riverdale (TV 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cunnilingus, F/F, Former child star Cheryl, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Loss of Virginity, Pop Star AU, Toni goofy as hell, Vaginal Fingering, but also comforting, dominant toni, rabid fan Toni</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:48:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>486</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23296051</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/For_ms_rootbeer/pseuds/For_ms_rootbeer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Cheryl Blossom is a rising pop star playing her first major festival in Palm Springs. A beauty queen as a child thanks to her controlling mother, she’s used to the spotlight. She’s used to being unreachable, unattainable. Until one night when, as she performs, a nutty fan girl slips past security and into her laundry bin.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cheryl Blossom &amp; Toni Topaz, Cheryl Blossom/Toni Topaz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>12:30</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExitZero/gifts">ExitZero</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Wtf this is my first fic ever! I’ve been on here for years, but thx to quarantine I finally got so bored I had to just write. This is actually for a friend who sent this prompt to me as a joke, but my hormonal ass decided to try to make it serious...ish. Let’s hope it worked! (Btw this was meant to be a oneshot but it’s gonna wind up being 2 parts)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cheryl always sealed her ritual lipstick application with a smack of her lips. A little kiss to herself in the mirror of her trailer as she’d done for years, squinting into travel mirrors backstage at beauty pageants. Neat little rows of LEDs would wash her in blueish light as her mother kneaded her thumbs into the nape of Cheryl’s neck. </p><p>“When you’re up there, babe, they’re gonna try to psych you out- you can’t let them” she would say. “You’re the fiercest girl here, you know that right?” </p><p>Cheryl would nod with no artifice because she did know. Knowing came from the anticipation of standing on a stage and being above the throng, bathed in light, and untouchable. </p><p>She found that she didn’t like to be touched. No overhelpful tiger mommy or now, makeup artist could put on her lipstick just right. They would press the heel of their hand into a fresh layer of contour on Cheryl’s cheek to steady themselves, and somehow still manage line her Cupid’s bow lopsidedly. </p><p>The opening of her door broke her out of her reverie. Swanning in, setting a red bull on the vanity, and straightening her lanyard, the stage manager addressed an agenda on her clipboard. </p><p>“Security’s gonna come in in a few to make sure you’re comfortable with the exits. We have sound coming in after to set up your mic, and hair’s coming in with them to conceal it with the wig. I think after, you’re ready to go to your bay under the stage and get into a harness okay?”</p><p>“Yeah” Cheryl replied digging a pin into the back of her wig cap. Her hair, braided and wound tightly underneath, was desperately trying to escape.</p><p>“Oh by the way they said they can deliver sheets for you by 12:30 but that’s kinda late. We would move you to the Four Seasons but the festival is way too far from LA. Sorry, I know you wanted a better bed.”</p><p>“Yeah that’s fine” she answered automatically. If she had had the energy to be pointed, she would have been. But lately Cheryl hadn’t had great sleep- in fact she hadn’t been getting to sleep at all.</p><p>By 8:25 that night, once her harness had been locked in under a red sequined bodice, a platform lifted her up through the floor of the stage, higher than she’d ever been. And as the stadium beyond her came into focus and then faded away the higher she climbed, Cheryl realized she really might never be touched. </p><p>Below her, girls in cherry-spotted leotards kicked up towards the night sky, as glossy pink soap bubbles rocketed out of machines from the wings, glinting in the red strobes. </p><p>Over the pounding of the stadium and the belting of her own voice, Cheryl couldn’t possibly have noticed the girl slipping through the nosebleeds and leaping over barricades, pink curls whipping behind her.</p>
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